


Untitled

by jelly123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dean Being an Asshole, Dean is Not Amused, Demons, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam is a Sweetheart, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 22:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly123/pseuds/jelly123
Summary: There is a beginning and an end to everything. Everything has a cycle (circle of life, if you will). But what do you do when you're story is so messed up, you're not even sure how you got to this point? You go back and retrace your steps...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Kay, so I know I've got a million and three other things on the go, but I haven't written anything Supernatural in a while and this was rattling around in my head! (Sorry! ((Not really :P))).**

_If I could tell you when my life got this fucked up, I would. I mean, I have a pretty good guess when it started, but nothing is concrete in my theory. I’m just a twenty-something, nobody, from Nowheresville, USA. I’ve never done anything important with my life, I worked a steady job (which I didn’t actually hate), barely finished school, and had very few people I could call friends. See? Nothing significant about what I was. And don’t start with the “everyone’s important” bullshit. It’s just that, bullshit. I may not have been imperative, but I still liked where my life was at. I didn’t have to worry about a whole lot; just pay my bills on time, and look after my dogs._

_So why am I thinking my life is so fucked up? Why am I sitting here, telling a complete stranger that I was never important, that I didn’t really matter? That I’m using past tense when referring to why I didn’t? Because, I may not have been important in my average, (really, rather mundane life) doesn’t mean my story isn’t._

_It doesn’t start like any story does, there’s no once upon a time, no it wasn’t a sunny/rainy day in Whatever Town. No, my story starts with me late for work, rushing around because I slept through my alarm, again…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super freaking short, I know.. But it had to be done! :)


	2. The First (and Second) Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Meet Miranda.. A twenty something mouthy little shit. She's just living her life, minding her own God-damn business, when her world gets turned around. What happens when two ( _extremely handsome_ ) literally run into her? Do they even know what they're doing? Does she? **

To say I over slept was the fucking understatement of the year. It was quarter after 10, and my shift was supposed to start at 9 am. So, I was fucking hella late. No thanks to my stupid alarm not actually- Oh for _FUCKS SAKE!!!_ Here I was cursing at my alarm for not going off, when it indeed had. I was just one stupid motherfucker, and kept hitting fucking snooze! _I really need to start going to bed before two in the morning._

Running around my room, I grabbed any part of my uniform that looked remotely clean, cursing extra loud when all my jackets had sauce all over them. Too bad, I’ll just have to button it the other way and pray to fucking God that my boss doesn’t catch it to later on, when it looks like I’ve done some work. And hopefully, I don’t get fired. (Sleeping in is a problem, I don’t usually work the prep shift, but fucking Joan had to quit and leave us a fucking man short and stupid fucking me, I wanted the hours).

Checking the time, I raced down the stairs, pulling my long hair up into the tightest bun I could manage. That at least wanted to cooperate, so one battle down, a probable metric fuck ton to go. My two German Shepherds, Chester and Winnie were following me, concerned that their Momma was extremely upset, (Seriously though, you want a dog that’s going to be deathly loyal and love you unconditionally, get either a pure bred German shepherd, or anything mixed with it). After giving them each a quick pat to reassure them that I was fine, I grabbed my keys and flew out the door. I drove faster than the allotted speed limit, but I didn’t care, I had to get to work.

What I did care about was the amount of cop cars in the parking lot. We weren’t open yet, so they couldn’t be here for lunch. _Am I really that stupid?_ There’s like 10 cop cars in the parking lot, and my first thought is they’re here for lunch? What the fuck happened? No one was supposed to be in until like, noon, I was the only person scheduled for the morning.

I pulled up the laneway, stopping when one of the cops started to walk over, indicating for me to lower my window.

“Morning, Miss.” He greeted.

“Morning Officer. What’s going on?” I asked.

“Sorry Miss, can’t tell ya. Not too sure ourselves.” Way to instill confidence, Officer Numbnuts.

“I work here. I was supposed to be here, an hour and a half ago.” I started, annoyance setting in my tone.

“My apologies. If you’ll step outta the car, I’ll take ya to my supervisor, she’ll be able to fill you in a bit better.”

Nodding, I shut off my car and followed him, confused as fuck. His supervisor was a middle-aged woman (if I had to guess, my side of fifty), her hair was just starting to grey, and her face was set in bitch mode. (Maybe she suffered from RBF?)

“Brian, I told you to keep people away.” She started to chastise her subordinate.

“I’m sorry Ma’am. But she says she works here, thought maybe she could help.” Brian shrugged, but looked genuine in his apology.

“Is that true, Ms.?” She waited for me to respond.

“Bell. Miranda Bell. And yeah, I was supposed to be in for my shift at nine. Slept in.” Even I knew my explanation sounded weak, but it’s the truth.

“And you were home all morning, alone?” Apparently, she was just jumping straight into interrogating me.

“Yeah, I mean, my dogs saw me for like, two seconds as I rushed out the door. I slept in, and was really late for work, there’s really no one to have seen me.” I said, my defenses flaring up. I didn’t like the accusing tone in her voice, I have no idea what the fuck’s going on.

“Looks like you have a day off then. You’re free to go, do as you please, but stay in town; someone will be by later to collect your statement.”

What the actual fuck? “Statement? Excuse me, Ma’am, but why would you need a statement from me? I wasn’t here, I don’t even know what the f- I don’t know what happened.” Annoyed and caffeine-deprived was not a winning combination for me, clearly, I just almost swore at a cop. Though I did stop myself. So there’s that.   

“We’ll be getting ones from all the employees.” She waved her hand at me, telling me to leave her alone now.

Fine. I’ll take that. I could just crawl back into bed anyway. Not like I needed the money of what could have been a 12-hour shift. Nope. Not at all. This day has been a write off the minute I opened my eyes. I walked back to my car, grumbling about how this day could not get any worse.

Yeah, I was wrong. Some asshole in a black car, came roaring into the parking lot, managing to hit me. I went flying cursing him a blue streak, before I landed gracefully ( _Read: not so)_ on my ass.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Hey Asshole! If you couldn’t tell, restaurant’s fucking closed! Maybe watch where you’re fucking going and you won’t hit people or I don’t know? Maybe notice the dozen or so fucking cops that just witnessed you take out a pedestrian! You stupid fucking, fuck!” I screamed at the guy behind the wheel.

He, however, didn’t seem to notice or care. He was screaming his own profanities at me, more concerned about the me-sized dent in his bumper, then the actual human being that caused said dent.

“Seriously! You bitch! Watch where you’re going! This is a parking lot, not a place for you to casually stroll in front of bumpers! Jesus fuck! I just got her fixed! You’re paying for the damages you fucking bitch!” Jeez, I know some guys love their cars, but he may have taken it to a new level.

“Listen here, you conceited self-righteous _prick_.” I stood up and marched (okay, limped, but, semantics) towards him, “I don’t care that your car is dented, I was just hit by said fucking car, so I think it’s _you_ that has to pay for damages. Not to mention I’m having the second worst fucking day of my life, you had to top it off with actually running me the fuck over! So why don’t you get back in your _precious_ fucking car and go the fuck home?!”

He looked like he was about to say something else, but (I would assume) the passenger in his car was stepping between us, trying to diffuse the situation.

“I’m sorry Miss.” Why does everyone keep saying that? “My partner is a little protective of his car. I’m Agent O’Connor, we’re here about the murder.” _Murder?!?!_ Did Jolly-Green just say murder?

I could feel my face blanch. Seriously, what the actual _FUCK_ happened here?

“Let the bitch go, Sam. She’s just a stupid rubber Necker, trying to find out what happened.” Dude, I’m right here.

“Dude, she’s right there.” O’Connor, reminded him, like he read my thoughts.

“Yes. I am right here. Right here because from some ungodly reason I slept through my alarm, and was extremely late to work, only to finally get here and find out that someone was fucking murdered! So thanks, Agent Limpdick, you have officially kicked this day to the worst one of my life! I’m going the fuck home, have fun with your murder boys. Don’t call me if you need anything.” I flipped my middle finger at the agents, not even caring for one second that they were, in fact, federal agents, I’m pissed.

I didn’t stick around long enough to hear anymore, I jumped back into my car, and squealed out of the lot, not giving one flying fuck to the fact that about a dozen or more cops just watched me.

Crawling back into my bed was sounding more and more appealing the closer I got to home. ( _And a glass of bourbon)_. That was probably higher on my list of things to do than being in bed. Is it only 11 am? Yupp. Do I care? Not one single fuck. You’d want to try and forget too, if you just had the morning I had.

Which is where I found myself, not even an hour later, and half way through my bottle of Jameson. Chester was laying on the couch, silently judging me, while Winnie was at my feet dancing around the living room with me. My shitty morning slowly fading from my thoughts, the anger receding to a more carefree annoyance that I was out of a job. But a few more drinks, and even that wouldn’t bother me.

But apparently the universe wanted to fuck with me just a bit more today. Halfway through belting out a Three Days Grace song, I was ever so rudely interrupted by a knock on my front door, causing both dogs to trot over to it, barking their fool heads off.

“Calm down, you idjits.” I tried to push past them, but they didn’t want to move, “Come on guys, you have to let me answer the door. Chester, Winnie, _Fuss!_ ” (Heel)

Finally, they listened, allowing me to get past and to the door. Did I already mention that universe wasn’t done fucking with me today? Yeah, well I’m mentioning it again. Because holy fuck, it was serving me another dish of steamy bullshit, with a side of ‘you gotta be kidding me’. Both, Agent O’Connor, and Agent Limpdick were standing on my front porch, effectively killing whatever buzz I had.

“Just fucking great.” I mumbled, “What do you want? Ya hear to apologize for your hit and run?”

“ _You.”_ Realization hitting Limpdick, “Your fucking witness Sammy. I’ll be in the car.” And with that, he turned on his heel, and stormed off.

“I must apologize for my partner, once again. He’s still a bit butt hurt about earlier.” O’Connor’s apologetic smile seemed genuine enough, so I nodded. “We’re. Er. I’m here to talk about what happened at the restaurant. Um, not the hit and run, but the, uh, other thing.”

“Sure. Wanna come in?” I asked, noting it was adorable the way he was nervous around me, like I was some weird wild animal that was going to throw her hackles up and attack.

“That’d be great.” He smiled, following me into my home. Chester and Winnie both back on their feet, eagerly trying to sniff the newcomer.

“Winnie. Chester. Down. I’m sorry Agent, they like to meet new people.” I shrugged.

“It’s not a problem. Which ones which?” He asked.

“Winnie’s the smaller one, only a year old. Chester’s the one with the Rottweiler colouring.” I explained.

“Well, they’re beautiful. Always wanted one myself as a kid, couldn’t though. We moved around a lot, and it wouldn’t have been fair to the animal.” He almost seemed sad talking about his childhood, like a little flash of something that could have been sweeping through his eyes, but then it was gone, and he was straightening back out. “But, I have some questions for you. Mind if we sit, it may take a while?”

“I was just about to make some coffee, so the kitchen works for me.” I said, leading him out of my foyer, and into the kitchen. Not wanting to have to wait for the pot to brew, I threw some water into a mug and microwaved it for a minute, and used one of my instant coffee packs I had. ( _Honestly, it doesn’t make it taste that bad, and it’s better than waiting for five minutes or more for a coffee maker to brew_ ).

“Does the name Joan Miller, mean anything to you?” Okay, so we’re starting now with the questions.

“Yeah. I used to work with her, she just quit, uhm, last week? Didn’t like being the only one to get the morning shift.” I answered.

“Who’s been working her shift since she left?”

“Me. No one else was stupid enough to take it.” I shrugged, unsure what this had to do with anything.

“Have you ever noticed anything weird in the mornings? A strange person hanging around? An odd smell? Anything like that?” O’Connor asked.

“No nothing like that. But honestly, I’m not a morning person what so ever, I’m barely awake by the time I get work. The place could be on fire and I wouldn’t notice half the time.”

“Then why take the shift?”

“Because working almost 12 hours for five out of seven days, puts a rather nice dent into my bills.” I quipped.

“Fair enough. How close were you to Joan?”

“About as close as coworkers should be? I’m a pretty private person, so being sociable with my colleagues isn’t something I normally do.” I shrugged.

“She ever mention why she was leaving?” He asked.

“Not to me. Rumour was her husband got a better job, and she didn’t need to work anymore. Personally, I just think she hated the job. Working in kitchens isn’t for everyone.” I remarked.

“Was she acting different before she gave her notice?” I shrugged, not sure of any other way to answer his question, “Nothing that seemed weird to you?”  

“Honestly, Agent O’Connor-” “Sam.” “Honestly Sam, my extent of conversations with her included an almost fist fight on the line because she forgot to make the stuffed chicken one night. Her response was to call me a Cum Dumpster who was fucking her boss to keep her job. We were slammed that night; I don’t even hold it against her. That and worse can happen any given Friday night. There’s a reason the saying goes ‘if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.’” I chuckled, knowing too well how that expression came to be.

“So you didn’t really get along with her?” He was confused.

“It’s not that we didn’t get along, we rarely ever interacted. That was, like, the only time.” I shook my head.

“I think I understand. Is there anything else you can tell me about the last day you worked? Was anything off, or was it what it should have been?”

“I didn’t find anything weird about yesterday. Monday’s are one of our slower days, not a lot happens. Sorry, wish I could be of more help.” I sighed.

“It’s alright. Well, if you think of anything, even if you think it sounds absolutely nuts, give me a call.” Sam said as he passed me one of his business cards.

“And if your partner, Agent Limpdick, ever wants to apologize for running me over, you know where to find me.” I laughed leading Sam back through the house.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one if I were you. Don’t take it personally, he’s had a crappy week, and that car is like his baby.” Sam shook his head, laughing at the other’s odd obsession for his car.

“Doesn’t give him the right to be a dick, especially if he’s here to work.” I pointed out, “My outburst was justified, and his wasn’t.”

“I’ll let him know. Take care-” He was only just realizing now that I never gave him my name. (Though isn’t it their job to know that?)

“Randy,” That earned me a raised eyebrow, “It’s short for Miranda.”

“Take care Randy.” Sam waved as he walked back to where his partner was parked.

Waving back, I took note that said agent was glaring at our exchange, so I did the most mature thing I could think of; I flipped him off, again. I wonder how those two ever became partners, maybe their boss hates them and decided that if they were to work together, they’d either smarten up or quit. I mean they were such polar opposites: Sam was kind, patient and an obvious dog lover (much to the chagrin of my fur babies). And Agent What’s-his-face, was, to put it bluntly, a dick. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for hitting me with his car (and not caring that I could have been hurt), and don’t think I didn’t notice the way he went for his gun when I opened my door and he was greeted by Chester and Winnie. I’ve had big dogs for long enough to know when someone is clearly uncomfortable around them. (Even had a cop pull his gun out on Chester.). Shaking my head, I went back inside. My buzz has been officially killed, and I want nothing more for this day to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to know what her dogs look like:  
> [Chester](https://animalso.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/rottweiler-german-shepherd-mix_5.jpg)  
> [Winnie](http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/images26/GerberianShepskyGermanShepherdSiberianHuskyHybridDogsRaiya3MonthsOld.jpg)


	3. Is This Really Fucking Necessary?

It’s been three whole days since the incident at work, and I still know the same as I did on day one, sweet jack shit. Work’s only called once, and that was to tell me that we’ll be closed until further notice. So here I am, bored out of my fucking mind and go absolutely stir crazy. You can only drink so much of your liquor stash before you start looking like an alcoholic, and as much as I would love to, I can’t even sleep.

I don’t usually suffer from insomnia, but I do go through my bouts of it. Majority of the time, I just can’t get my brain to shut off, and eventually I get so tired, I just pass out from exhaustion ( _don’t tell me that’s unhealthy, I already know that_ ). But the exhaustion seems to be taking its sweet time to settle in, and my brain is certainly not shutting up anytime soon. No one had told me what happened, so I, or rather my brain decided, that I was going to think of every possible scenario, and what it had to do with Joan Miller.

It was while I was lying in bed, when I heard the noise downstairs. Chester and Winnie, who were sleeping soundly beside me, perked up and stood at the door to my room, ready to protect me from whatever was making the noise. Carefully, I reached over to my bedside table and grabbed the handgun I had hidden there.

“We sure this is the right house?”

“Yeah. They’ve been watching it since they got here. She was the one that was supposed to be there the other day, not the older one.”

_Were they saying what I think they were?_ I stood at the top of the stairs, craning my neck to try and hear where they were.

“But why her? She doesn’t seem like she’d make a good candidate?” _The fuck are they talking about?_

“Dunno. Boss seems to think she’s prefect, something about just stubborn enough to be able to handle it.”

My patience was thin to begin with, and these two just wandering aimlessly around my house had stretched it to a breaking point. Rounding the banister, I stalked down the stairs, gun raised, Chester and Winnie following me, catching the attention of the intruders.

“I highly suggest that the both of you leave. Before I have my dogs rip your fucking faces off.” There was a level of venom in my voice, it even worried me.

“Now, now. No need for theatrics. We’re here to simply collect you.” The shorter one said.

“Just lower the gun, it’s useless anyway.” The taller one said, almost amused at the situation.

“Nope. Don’t think so. You are going to leave, I’m going to call the cops, or, Chester here will rip both your faces off. Look at him, do you really want that jaw closing around your ugly fucking mugs?” _Seriously, where was this coming from?_ I mean, I can be a bitch any given day of the week, but this was different.

Neither one responded, verbally anyway. The taller one, had turned his attention back to his shorter accomplice, a twisted smirk pulling up the corners of his mouth. I had readied myself for a fight, the commands for Chester to attack settling on the tip of my tongue, waiting for me to open my mouth.

I never got that far.

The shorter one, ran over to where I was, and had his arms around my torso before I could even blink. While the taller one, took his time to approach me, casually throwing a side-glance to my dogs, who had backed down.

“You listen here Girlie, and you listen good; I’d very much love to rip you apart, piece by piece, just like we did your friend the other day. But my boss wants you for something, and I’ve been given strict orders not to kill you. However, there’s always a loop-hole. See, we can’t kill ya, but we can hurt you, really, really bad.” His laugh was cruel and humourless.

“Fuck you, asshole.” I spat in his face.

“I can see why the boss wants her. She’s all fire, it’s going to be fun breaking her in.” The one holding me laughed in my ear.

“It is indeed.” The other growled, raising his hand before slamming it into my face.

The world fell away, blackness clouding my vision. I struggled to keep conscious, knowing if I gave in, it would not be a good thing. But it seemed so much easier to let go, to follow the darkness. My body slumped against the man holding me, and if he hadn’t been, I would have fallen to the floor. The last thing I remember is both dogs growling, and then, nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter, I know.. After I said.. *sigh* I know, okay?


	4. What The Hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching POV's for this one.. It's not quite Dean's, more so third person.. Just read it. You'll understand..

The knock on the door raised a series of barks from inside. Curious enough, there was nothing else. Not like the other day, where the barking was met with muffled commands to shut up.

Dean shifted his weight, re-thinking his plan. There was something about this woman, he couldn’t get her out of his head, and if he were being completely honest, it scared the crap out of him. At first he had been beyond livid that she just walked in front of his car, creating a decent indent in the front bumper. Her words to him afterward fanned the flame that was already there (that was always there, again, if we were to be honest). And then when they showed up at her house, to question the employee that was supposed to be there that morning, it threw him off, the calm he felt moments before, were pushed aside by the anger the second she opened the door.

He wanted nothing to do with her, but Sam suggested that if she was supposed to be the one working, maybe she was the intended target. So they’ve spent the last few days, watching her house, noting nothing out of the ordinary happening. After the third day, he decided that enough was enough, that this was a waste of his time. He drove back to the motel, wanting to sleep in an actual bed, and not the back seat of his baby.

But now, here he was. Standing on her front porch, waiting for her to answer the door. Her car was in the driveway, so she had to be home. She didn’t seem the type just walk somewhere, especially if she had two dogs.

Something about the situation in front of him, rubbed Dean the wrong way. He knew something was wrong, worry had set in, and his arm itched. That threw him off, he’s never really cared about a potential victim like this, certainly not one who got under his skin like this one. He brushed it off as he reached for the door handle, surprised that it opened with little effort. Stepping through the threshold, he was greeted by two very upset dogs. One had his teeth bared, growling. While the other, was whining and trying to sniff at his shoes.

“Easy guys.” He raised his closed hand, letting both smell it, “It’s okay. I’m just here to check on your owner.” The smaller one seemed to be okay what she was being told, as she nudged her head into his hand, looking for attention. The male was a little more hesitant, slowly easy out of his defensive stance, but still putting distance between himself and the new comer.

Dean took that as good enough and started looking around, no doubt in his mind that something had happened here. The place looked like it had been ransacked, drawers left open, papers littering the floors, but if he had to hazard a guess that was just to make it look like a break and enter. Nothing seemed to be actually missing. Well, except for Miranda. There wasn’t anything to indicate a struggle, which probably meant they blindsided her. He didn’t get a chance to check anywhere else, his phone breaking off his train of thought.

“Sam.” He answered.

“Hey. So get this; I did some digging on the girl, twenty years ago, her parents went missing. Cops thought it was a robbery gone wrong, but the weird part was, they didn’t take her. She was home at the time. Few weeks later her parents were found, strange puncture marks on their necks.” Sam rattled off the information he had in front of him.

“So we’re thinking vamps?” Dean asked.

“I dunno. Vamps don’t really come back to finish a job, or cross state lines if they don’t have to.” Sam hesitated.

“Spit it out.” Dean groaned, wiping a hand over his face.

“I’m thinking back then, it was vampires. But now? Doesn’t fit their usual M.O. I mean, the woman they killed first had her throat slashed, but still had blood in her body, she hadn’t been fed on. I’m thinking demons.” Even through the phone, Dean could tell his brother was scratching the back of his neck, running down the list of things it could possibly be.

“Well, whatever it is, they’ve got her. I’m at her place now, door was unlocked, and her dogs aren’t too happy.” Dean sighed.

“Shit.” Sam cursed, “Any way you can get them in the car?”

“Hell no! These mutts are not getting in my baby.” Dean growled, annoyed that Sam would even suggest that.

“We can’t just leave them there. Who knows how long we’re going to take to find her.” Sam argued.

“Fuck. Fine. If either one of them shits in my car, you’re cleaning it up.” Dean snarled, hanging up on his brother.

Getting the dogs in the car wasn’t that much of a challenge, the minute Dean suggested going for a car ride, the little one started bouncing around, excited. And once she hopped into the backseat, the bigger one, followed her in. The ride back to the motel was uneventful, both of them settled into the seat and didn’t move around a whole lot, much to Dean’s surprise. They did get excited when the spotted Sam, greeting him with a small yap and practically plowed him over when Sam crouched down to their level.

“Well hello to you too.” He smiled, scratching Winnie under the snout.

“Looks like you’re on mutt detail.” Dean quipped at his brother.

“Whatever. Did you find anything else?” Sam asked.


	5. Come to the Darkside, They Apparently Have Your Parents

The room was dark, when I came to, the only light coming in from underneath a door.

_Great, I have no idea where I am, and there’s no way in hell, I’m going to be able to figure it out._ My thoughts were sour and snarky, which can you blame me? I had been kidnapped, dragged off to God knows where, and by the fact that I can’t move my hands, I’d say I was tied up. _I swear if I get out of here, there will be hell to pay. My shitty week just keeps getting shittier and someone has to be held accountable._

I wasn’t given much time to think of an escape plan, a set of keys could be heard from outside the door, like someone was fumbling to find the right one, before sliding it into the lock and pushing the door open.

“Good. You’re awake.” The female figure standing in the doorway said.

I didn’t answer, instead I shifted over, looking for a way to make a clear path to the exit. She must have known what I was thinking, as she closed the door behind her, stepping further into the room.

“There’s no need of that. I’m not here to hurt you. But don’t think I won’t if you try to escape.” Even in the dark, I could see her mouth twist up into a smirk. “Now, I’m sure you have a million questions, so out with it.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“Miranda, is that anyway to treat your mother?” She said, flicking a light switch and illuminating the room.

Once my eyes adjusted to the sudden assault of light, I looked back up at her. A cold, sick feeling of dread and fear ran through me. It was impossible, my mother died when I was eight, this had to be some nightmare, something my sleep-deprived brain conjured up. There was no way she could be standing before me.

“I know dear, it’s quite impossible. But I’ll have you know, nothing is impossible. There is also so much, you don’t know about me child.” Her voice was patronizing, cold and nothing like I remembered.

“See, your father and I,” She continued, not leaving me a chance to respond, “we were hunters, not the kind we told you when you were a kid. No, we didn’t hunt animals, we hunted monsters. The things that go bump in the night, if you will. Boy did we piss a lot of them off, that’s what got us in the end. They figured out where we actually lived, decided they needed to do something about it. So they came, hauled us off, almost took you too, but back then I was weak, told them they could take us, we’ll go willingly, if they left you be. They didn’t want to, they wanted to kill off the entire bloodline, but one of them spoke up, must have had some humanity left in it, told the others to not bother with the kid. And they listened. Go figure. Where was I? Oh yeah. It took them a whole two seconds to kill your father, but with me, they had their fun, torturing me to the point I blacked out, several times. Until I offered a deal, let them kill me, and they could have my soul. Take it back to Hell, do whatever they wanted to it. They liked that idea. That was that. They continued to torture me by the way, but they also made me stronger, better. Now I’m back topside and all I want is for my daughter to join me.”

“You done? Wow, that was rather long winded. Did you get everything you needed to in there? Didn’t leave anything out there Champ? No? Good. Go to Hell.” I snarled. _What? Sarcasm is a defense tactic for me._

“Been there, done that. Have the t-shirt and everything.” She grinned.

“Good for you.” I said rolling my eyes.

“Oh Sweetie, you’ll be singing a different tone once I’m done with you.” Her voice lower, a tone not quite human.

“Wha-?” I started to say before I was thrown against a wall. _She was nowhere near me, how the hell did she do that?_

“Oh, Sweetie, let me show you how much fun we could have.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting her to do, but opening her mouth to let out a thick black cloud of smoke, was definitely not it. It was coming right at me, and part of me tried to move out of the way, I didn’t want that thing anywhere near me, but I was frozen in fear to my spot. My own mouth hanging open involuntarily as I swallowed the smoke and then nothing. I couldn’t see, hear or feel. There is no way to describe what was happening to me. My brain was trying to process what was going on, but it held no answers.

_“Just give me a minute and you’ll be able to move again.”_ Her voice came from inside my head.

I was no longer in control, that much was clear. Whatever she was, she had somehow managed to gain control over my entire body. Trapped in my own head, I was freaking out, and if my body would respond to any command, I’m sure I’d be hyperventilating.

“ _Calm down Sweetie. This’ll goes so much easier if you do.”_ Again, it was like her voice was inside my head. “ _It sure is. Just relax and go along for the ride. Let me show what it’s like to have this much power.”_

Slowly, I felt myself stand, and I looked around the room. My body responding to her commands rather than mine. She was leading us out of the tiny room they had me in. The hallway, of whatever building this was, was empty. No one was around, I couldn’t even hear movement.

“ _No need to worry. I told them to go somewhere else, while I got you familiar with your new home.”_ She laughed.

_“What do you want from me?”_ I asked.

_“Just my daughter by my Side. I know. I’m a sentimental fool.”_ I could feel her sigh.

_You got the mental part right._ Maybe I am too. I am literally having a conversation in my head! I had to be fucking nuts! 

She didn’t really answer my thoughts, just left me alone to deal with my own inner dialogue. _(Can I even call it that anymore?)._ This was beyond fucked up. First Joan gets killed. _What the hell was she doing there anyway?_ Then, I almost get ran over. _Thank you Agent Limpdick._ Now I’m laid off until whatever the fuck happened gets figured out. Oh! And to top it off. I’ve been kidnapped by psychopaths! I’ve had a Stellar fucking week!

_“Wait._ ” We stopped, my thoughts stirring emotions inside her. I could feel my whole body tense at the mention of the two FB I agents. _“Ha! They’re hunters, not FBl. Very annoying ones at that. This_ is _going to be fun!”_

Before I could ask what the fuck she was going on about, the world shifted and the floor disappeared from under us. I thought that this old building couldn’t take the weight of us anymore. But I was wrong. As quickly as it disappeared it was back under us. Except we weren’t where we started. We were in the dive bar just outside of town.

We looked around the place, she was searching for them. It didn’t take us long to spot them, they stuck out in this crowd.

Pulling my hair loose from the bun I had it in, she sauntered over to them. They at least had the decency to look surprised to see me.

“Randy?” Sam asked, confusion setting in to his features.

“Yeah it’s me. Who were you expecting? The bogeyman?” She laughed, the sound wrong, too girly. _Ugh I do not sound like that._

“Just didn’t think we’d see you. I stopped by earlier to check on you and your door was wide open. Place looked like a bomb went off.” Sam was studying my face, looking for something. She was caught up in messing with them that she missed the look they shared.

“Had to leave in a rush this morning.” She shrugged.

“What are you drinking? I’m pretty sure after the other day, I owe you one.” Dean spoke up.

Either she knew this was starting to smell like a trap, or she was really fucking stupid. I’m just grateful she stopped paying attention to me, I was quickly figuring out that these two weren’t buying what she was selling.

“I’ll have a vodka tonic.” She smiled sweetly. _I’m going to need_ _bleach and an extremely_ _strong whiskey to_ _get the taste of her_ _and that drink out_ _of my mouth._

“Sure thing. Be right back.” Dean got up to grab her one.

“I’m glad you are alright Randy. Chester and Winnie were pretty upset this morning.” Sam commented.

“Who?” I felt my eyebrow quirk up. _Oh, you stupid Cow, they’ve got us now._

She was trying to figure out what I meant, I could feel her sifting through my thoughts trying to find what she missed. She didn’t get far, Sam had thrown something on us, I felt like I was on fire. Everything was burning, _how the fuck is that possible?_

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Sam growled, “What did you do to Randy?”

“Nothing. _Yet._ ” She snarled, “But if you two play nice, I won’t snap her pretty little neck.”

_Yeah, that so wasn’t happening._ Before I could do or say anything, strong arms were wrenching mine backwards and a pair of handcuffs were slapped on my wrists.

“You know those won’t hold me.” She smirked

“I had these specially made.” Dean leaned into my ear, “They have some nice etchings that you should check out sometime.”

I could feel her try to escape from the cuffs around our wrists, but Dean was right, whatever they were made of wouldn’t let her poof out. They had us out of the bar and in the back seat of that damned car in no time, Sam crouching down to my eye level as he talked to us.

“Randy? Are you still in there?” He asked.

I wanted to scream at him, I wanted out of this hell, but nothing worked. All I did was smirk, before ramming my head into his.

“Even if she is, I’m not letting her out. You haven’t been playing nice, why would you get that kind of reward.” She said.

Dean pushed us so that we were completely in the back seat, and raised his fist. _Is this how it’s going to be, am I going to constantly going to get knocked out?_


End file.
